


But What About Hugo?

by abigail89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: Epilogue Compliant, M/M, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Sexual Situations, bad language, humor and romance., with dashes of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Harry and Ron settle into a new relationship together, Hugo Weasley is having troubles controlling his magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But What About Hugo?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2008 Bestmates_Xmas exchange.

_BANG!_

_Slam!!_

"Dad?!"

Harry sat bolt upright, the fog of a delicious dream fading rapidly. He cocked his head, trying to discern if he really had heard something.

"Dad?"

Hugo's voice floated softly up the stairs from the kitchen.

Harry nudged the hot lump of Ron next to him. "Hey. Get up. Hugo's here."

Ron grunted. His legs retracted, pulling his lanky body into a large ball with a fuzzy red top. The ball heaved a sigh, then farted.

"Merlin," Harry said, scratching his head. He patted Ron's arse affectionately, and swung his legs over the sides of the bed. He shifted, smiling at the tingling ache in his own arse. He sighed contentedly, recalling their lovemaking in the dark hours of the night, how passionate Ron had been, even the third time, as he cried out, pounding deeply into Harry, as he came—

"Best not think about that," Harry muttered to himself, tamping down his stirring arousal as he rose from the tangled bedding.

He leant over and swatted Ron more firmly. "Hey, Hugo's here. You need to get up."

Ron farted again.

"Oh, for the love of..." Harry wrinkled his nose and shuffled to the loo.

*~*

"Morning, Hugo," Harry said, entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Uncle Harry. Dad up yet?" Hugo asked. He was sitting at the high counter munching on a bowl of Owl Oaties.

"Um…not sure. I opened the door to his room and called to him, but you know how he is," Harry lied smoothly. He touched his wand to the kettle, which whistled instantly. "Tea?"

'No, thanks."

"Hot cocoa?"

"Um—sure. Uh, thanks," Hugo replied, distracted by the comic on the back of the cereal box.

"No problem."

Harry smiled at his nephew. As the youngest of his and Ron's brood of five children, and the only one not yet at Hogwarts, Hugo had had a miserable fall. It was made even worse by his parents' fresh divorce, having taken place the day after his sister and cousins left on the Hogwarts Express. Even though Ron and Hermione's divorce had only been publicised in a small article buried amongst sale adverts in the middle of the paper, everyone in the small wizarding community at Godric's Hollow knew about it and so did Hugo's classmates at the wizarding lower school. There were many mornings when Ron or Hermione had had to fight with him about going, mornings that ended with his parents angry with each other and with him, and with Harry having to intervene. His own divorce from Ginny had been a messy affair, played out on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. His children had suffered a similar fate, but at least they had had each other to lean on. Hugo, unfortunately, was all on his own.

Harry set the mug in front of Hugo, and pulled up a chair opposite. "How's it going?" he asked.

Hugo looked up, glassy-eyed, and blinked. "Oh." He shook his head, reminding Harry of the boy's mother. "Good. No school today."

"Oh, that's right. I reckon the lower school would be out what with the Express coming today." Harry sipped his tea. "You're here awfully early. Where's your mum?"

Hugo scowled. "Work."

Harry noticed the reaction. "Did she say if she was going to meet us at the station?" Harry was used to dragging information out of recalcitrant criminals, and the technique was the same for dragging it out of 10-year-old boys: bide time, watch the body language and keep asking more and more specific questions.

Hugo shrugged.

"Are you supposed to go to work with your dad?"

Again, the unknowing, or uncaring, shrug.

Inwardly, Harry sighed. Hermione was in full avoidance mode: the more she wanted to avoid thinking about her life, the less time she spent at home and talking to Ron. She loved her children more than life itself; he knew that. But the children, especially Hugo, reminded her of Ron and of the mess that was their lives. Harry knew she didn't mean to neglect Hugo, but when it came to avoiding the pain, she lost herself in the pain of others.

"Hey," Ron said as he came down the stairs, yawning. His orange dressing gown was hanging open. Harry noticed that he had remembered to pull on track pants and a t-shirt. Ron dropped a kiss on the top of Hugo's head, and unconsciously touched Harry on the forearm.

The mug sitting in front of Hugo broke into several large pieces, the cocoa running over the table.

Ron snorted. "Hugo, this can't go on, mate. Have you been practising the relaxation techniques your mother taught you?"

Hugo shot him a sour look, then turned away rolling his eyes.

"No worries," Harry said. " _Evanesco!_ The cocoa disappeared. "If you're finished, you can go up to Albus's room and get on the computer. I have _World of Warcraft_ on."

Hugo's face lit up. "Cool! What level are you up to now?"

"I am a level 55 Death Knight."

"Whoa! That's amazing, Uncle Harry! Al and I are only at priest level."

"Well, Al doesn't have Internet access at Hogwarts, so you can pass him up."

Hugo scampered up the steps, and his heavy footsteps pounded down the upstairs hallway.

"So now I know what you do when I'm away on business," Ron said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"That's what happens when you move into administration and run it way too effectively. I have a lot of free time on my hands these days," Harry replied, grinning. He took another sip of his tea, and he decided to it was time to talk to Ron seriously about his son. "Ron," he started, "Hugo's losing control of his magic much more often these days."

"Yeah, I know. It's gotten really bad since Hermione's workload picked up last month." Ron slumped against the counter. "His teachers say it's not so bad at school, so at least we don't have to worry about any sprogs getting hurt." He laughed weakly.

"Have you asked him what sets it off?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, but he doesn't know. He says it just happens."

"Hm." Harry had been watching Hugo over the past few months, and noticed that the accidents happened around Ron, especially when Ron was with _him_. "Do you think it's just because there's too much change happening? I mean, Lily went off to Hogwarts this fall. You finally moved in here with me. Hermione spends more time at work. Al and James are so busy they don't write to him. Your mum and dad are finally getting to see a bit of the world, and they haven't been around much. He's all alone."

"Oy! I'm still here."

Harry was silent for a moment, then took a chance. "But are you really?"

"What d'you mean by that?" His tone was indignant.

"I don't mean you're neglecting him," Harry said quickly, placating him. "It's just that, you're so busy with the shop. You've taken on more responsibilities that involve constant traveling. You were gone for a full week in North America just last month. I came home one night after an emergency meeting at the Ministry and found him asleep in front of the computer in Al's room."

"You did? Where was Hermione?"

"She'd had a late night, too. It wasn't a big deal. He knows how to get in here, and he knows that of all of us, I'm the one who's likely to come home earliest."

Ron set his mug down. "You shouldn't have to take care of him. She should've been here. That's the deal: when I'm not here, she is."

"It's not a problem," Harry insisted. "He's my nephew, so of course I can take care of him." Harry got up to refresh the water in his mug. "We've always watched out for each others' kids. That's why we live next door to each other. And don't go blaming Hermione. I should have thought to ask her what her plans were when the meeting came up.

"She should've been here," Ron huffed. "It's not on for him to not have someone around."

"I agree, and Hermione and I have been much more diligent about checking in with each other, especially when you're gone." Harry slid around the counter to stand beside Ron. He placed a hand on his arm. "So don't be hard on her. It was a one-time thing, and we've handled it."

"Still—" Ron began. "I hate to think about him being alone here or at her house."

"I agree. But of all the kids, Hugo's the most resilient and independent. Hermione says he even cooks dinner sometimes."

"Don't doubt that. Boy eats as much as a hippogriff."

Harry laughed. "You mean, he eats as much as you do."

"Yeah, well…" Ron looked down and laughed too. "He's a true Weasley."

Harry nudged him with his shoulder. "Speaking of which, you ready for some breakfast?"

"Was wondering when one of us was going to bring that up." At that second, Ron's stomach rumbled loudly. "And I was wondering when that was going to happen."

Harry embraced Ron briefly. "Why don't you--?"

The cereal bowl behind them exploded. Harry swiveled around, his wand in hand.

Hugo was staring at them.

"Son, you gotta stop this," Ron said, impatiently. "It just might set your uncle off one day. His nerves aren't what they used to be."

Harry waved his wand. _"Reparo!_ " The bowl mended together. He stowed his wand in his pocket, and made for the fridge. "My nerves are just fine, Hugo. Don't listen to your dad."

"Riiiight. And you pull your wand in your house for nothing."

"I would be a poor Auror indeed if I couldn't defend myself and my loved ones at a second's notice. I was in complete control." Harry pulled out a carton of eggs and a package of streaky bacon. "Hugo, you want some more food?"

The boy silently shook his head. "Um…the computer froze."

"Ah. Blue screen of death?"

Hugo again shook his head.

"Well, hang on. I'll get breakfast going and then get to it." Harry said. He pulled a skillet out from under the cooker, set it on the stove, laid several strips of the streaky bacon in it, and waved his wand. The bacon started to sizzle.

Ron refilled his cup. "Say, Hugo. Aren't you supposed to be at school right now?"

"No school."

Ron stared at him. "Wait? There's no school?"

Hugo shook his head.

"Well, what the bloody hell am I going to do with you? I can't take him to the shop," Ron said to Harry. "I have a Portkey to Berlin this morning so I can check on the shop there. George isn't going to be in, either." He set his coffee on the counter. "Merlin! Hermione's supposed to tell me these things. She just can't expect me to rearrange my entire schedule to accommodate her. She can bloody well come here and work. Lemme go talk to her." He stalked off to the lounge to make the firecall.

Hugo sat down heavily in the nearest chair, silent for several minutes. Then he asked, "Am I in trouble? Mum told me to tell Dad about school, and I forgot."

"It's all right," Harry said compassionately, flipping the bacon. "You weren't even here last night. Remember? Look, just let us work it out." A muffled shout came from the lounge. "It's gonna be fine."

Ron came back into the kitchen, his hair full of ashes. "Hermione wasn't in her office. And I yelled at her secretary. I'm gonna have to send her flowers again. Dammit! What am I gonna do with him?"

A thought struck Harry. "He can come with me. I don't have any meetings today because I told Gin I'd get the kids up at Kings Cross." He turned to Hugo. "You got a book you can read or something to keep you busy at my office?"

Hugo nodded.

"Then it's sorted," Harry said, directing the bacon with his wand to the plate. "Just as long as you get back by 5:00 to help with the pick-up. Hugo, you and I can enjoy a nice lunch in the Ministry cafeteria." Harry waggled his eyebrows at him. "It's Taco Tuesday."

"Oh goody," Hugo said, finally breaking into a smile.

Ron rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Five o'clock? I can probably get back by then. 'Course it'll mean not being able to run by The Chocolate Dragon for some of your favorite sweets—" Ron gave Hugo a sideways, loopy grin.

"Aw, Dad!"

"But since we're gonna be out way past supper, looks like we'll just have to stop off at the Muggle place you like so much…"

"Oh, no, Ron," Harry started to protest.

"YAY! We're going to McDonald's!!" Hugo raised his arms in triumph. "YAY!"

"Oh—well," Harry finished weakly, seeing how happy it made Hugo. "I know your cousins will enjoy it, too. Think I'll skip the tacos and get a salad instead. Gotta keep my boyish figure."

"Harry, you've always been the skinniest bloke I've ever seen," Ron said with a scoff; he walked over to the cooker where Harry was breaking eggs into a second skillet. "That okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"Of course it is," Harry said. "First time he's smiled all morning."

Ron gave him a quick one-armed-around-the-shoulders hug. "Yeah, thought that might cheer him up a bit. And I promise I'll be there well before five. Okay, mate?"

Behind them, another mug shattered. "You need to teach your son repairing charms, and fast," Harry said, flipping the eggs magically.

*~*

"Dad! DAD!"

Harry turned to his left, just in time to catch a hurtling Lily in his arms. "Hullo, pumpkin!" he said happily. "Merlin, I think you've gained a stone."

"Do you think so?" Lily asked, anxious. "I know I've grown eight centimetres—Madam Callaghan told me last time I was in the infirmary, and –"

"Yes, I know about that. And what's this about taking a flying high dive off your broomstick into the lake in November, young lady?"

Lily reddened, then gave him a cheeky grin. "Isn't that awesome?"

Harry set her down and looked over the tops of his glasses in mock sternness. "It is most certainly _not_ awesome when I get a letter from your head of house. We shall discuss this fully at a future time."

Lily folded her arms ( _Just like Ginny does when she's digging in for a fight_ , Harry noted in amusement.) "I served an entire week of detention for that. Am I to be punished twice?"

Harry knew the school had dealt with her adequately. "We'll see. I feel the need to impress upon you the seriousness of your offence."

"Oh, all right."

"C'mere." Harry pulled her close. "I am very happy to see you."

Her face melted out of the frown and lit up with a bright smile; she threw her arms around him again. "I love you, Daddy. I'm glad I'm home."

"Love you, pumpkin," Harry said, a bit relieved. "Now, where have your brothers gotten off to?"

"Is Mum here?"

"No. I don't think she's going to make it today," Harry answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Ginny's Owl to him expressing her regrets for missing the greeting of their children peeved him no end. Hang the interview with the Kestral's new Seeker! She was high up enough on the editorial ladder at the _Daily Prophet_ to be able to push off an interview to a peon. Harry had to take a deep breath to keep from exploding.

"Dad!"

James came up and dropped his laden rucksack at his feet. Harry noted with surprise he was now looking up at his handsome, auburn-haired son.

"Jamie! You've grown!"

"Children have a nasty way of doing that." To Harry's great surprise, his eldest son gave him a hug.

Harry hugged his back, hard. Then the back-slapping commenced, signaling the end of the hug. "The glasses suit you," Harry said, "though I'm surprised you didn't just get your eyes fixed magically."

"What, and end a glorious male Potter tradition?" Jamie grinned. "Marilee says I look more mature with specs."

"Marilee, eh? She the same one you were swooning over at the summer festival?"

"Yeah. Well, we've finally –"

"Dad!"

Harry took Jamie by the shoulder. "I want to hear all about her, but at home, all right? Let's get everyone together." And with that, Harry turned to greet his middle child.

"Hey, Dad."

"Great to see you, Al," Harry said enthusiastically. He noticed Al made no move to give him a hug, so he settled for a lingering pat on the back. Al was so thirteen.

"Wow, what's up with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron?" Al asked. "They're glaring at each other."

Harry glanced over to see his two best friends in what could only be described as classic face-down stance. Hugo stood off to the side, looking miserable.  


"And how's that different from their usual relationship?" Jamie said.

Harry shot him a disapproving look. "What?" Jamie said, his hands spread. "They're always like that."

"Yes, but their divorce became final right after you all left for school and it hasn't been easy, especially on Hugo," Harry said.

"Oh, yeah," Al said, "I'd forgotten. But I thought things were, you know, cool between them."

"Hasn't Rose said anything about it?" Harry asked them.

"Not to me," Al said, "but then again, Miss Ravenclaw doesn't speak to Gryffindors."

"She's said a little to me," Jamie volunteered softly. "She's—under the impression everything is okay. But she did tell me she was a little worried about them being able to move on."

"Why's that?"

Jamie shrugged. "Haven't you told us they've only ever known each other since they were eleven? She reckons they'll never get out and meet other people. They'll just work and be alone." He reached down to pick up the rucksack, and started walking with them to the exit.

"Where's Uncle Ron living? I thought he'd move into the flat over the shop, but Uncle George said he didn't."

"Ah, well, that's not a problem," Harry said as they approached Ron and Hermione.

"…and why didn't you know, Ronald? This is so _typical_ of you," Hermione was saying. She was facing Ron, hands on hips. Even hardened criminals took a step back when Hermione Granger stood before them like that.

"Hey, you two," Harry called genially. "Have you gathered up Rosie?" He gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, we have," Hermione said. "I'm sorry you had to mind Hugo today. Ron should've known he wouldn't have school today."

"It's fine," Harry said, putting an arm around Hugo's shoulders. "Hu and I had a good time."

"So, Hermione, I thought I'd keep the kids at Harry's house tonight, you know, have a good time to—"

"No! They need to be with me tonight," Hermione said loudly. "We talked about this."

"Yeah, but it's really important for them to be there tonight," Ron said, his face flushing.

"More important than being with their mother?"

"You can come, too," Ron said rather hotly.

"Ron, I want them home with me. You can tell them your little news item--"

Harry decided he needed to step in. "Do you mind if I borrow her for a second, thanks," he said to Ron. "Just go start loading up the car, okay? This won't take but a moment."

He tugged her to a clear place on the busy platform. "What are you doing? I haven't told _my_ kids about us yet."

"Harry, how could you not saying anything before now?"

He held up his hand. "Because it's so much better to tell them in an Owl? At a quick Hogsmeade visit? Come on, Hermione. We've been planning to tell them tonight for months. You know that."

Hermione's shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. "Fine. I assume you've told Hugo already?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, no. We decided we'd tell them all together." When Hermione started to bristle again, he held up his hands. "We've been very cautious around him. No public displays. I doubt he suspects a thing.

"Harry," Hermione said, exasperated. "I expected better of you. The poor boy must be so confused."

"What? You haven't said anything, have you?"

"No. You and Ron told me you'd handle it, but I never expected you to not say anything to Hugo. No wonder he's so confused." She sighed. "The sooner, the better."

"I agree. We're telling them tonight."

"No, not tonight. I want Rose and Hugo tonight."

Harry frowned. "Can't you have them tomorrow?"

"No, we're visiting with my parents all day tomorrow. I want them to spend the night in their own beds tonight and before they go to your house and The Burrow for Christmas. You and Ron get them for a whole week while I. . . go away."

"Okay, fine," Harry replied. "Don't say anything. This needs to come from Ron and me." He took her hand. "You've been brilliant about all of this, you know."

She was quiet for a moment. "Oh, Harry. I'm not angry you're together. Truly. It's just…sometimes…I don't know." Her eyes filled as she turned away. "I'm glad he's with you. If he doesn't love me, at least I know someone I trust loves him."

"Hey, hey"—he took her by the shoulders—"You are not out of his life and he will never stop loving you. Nor will I. You live next door. Your office is down the hall from mine. Hermione, I don't know who I am without you, so just stop this. And you don't have to go away for Christmas. Truth be told, I'd rather you didn't."

That seemed to shake her back to herself. "No. No, I think it best you and Ron spend your first Christmas without me around. It'll be. . . uncomfortable at The Burrow, what with the divorce being final. I know! I know! Molly and Arthur have been more than understanding, but I'm no longer their daughter-in-law. It's just best." She gave him a firmer smile. "To be honest, I'm a little excited about going to New York on my own: going to plays, museums, the Public Library—all by myself and without Ron or a child asking me when we can go eat."

Harry laughed out loud at that. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound like the perfect holiday. Still"—he took her hands in his—"I'm going to miss you."

"Oh, I'll miss you, too, and especially the children. Even though they're getting older, it's still fun to watch them open their gifts together." She sighed. "And I'll miss Ron."

With that, a tear ran down her cheek. Harry pulled her closely. "You're more than welcome to stay."

Hermione sniffed and laughed shakily. "No. I'm determined to do this. It would just be too complicated explaining to the children why I wouldn't feel comfortable not going to The Burrow. You and Ron need this time with them."

"Hermione—"

"No, you do. I'm sorry." She wiped at her tears impatiently. "I shouldn't be making you feel bad. It was a good idea when we made this decision weeks ago, and it's still a good idea. I'll be fine. Really."

Harry stood quietly by as she blew her nose.

"Hey, Mum," Rose said, walking up, "Dad wants to go."

'Yes, I know he does. I'm sorry, sweetie. Let's go." Hermione took Rose's hand. "I need to go back to work for just a little while longer, and then I'll be finished and ready to spend time with you tonight. I promise."

"Sure, Mum." Rose didn't sound sure at all. "Please don't spend all day there."

"I won't."

They fell through the barrier, joining the rest of the combined families. Trunks had been lightened magically and were stacked onto two carts for the trip out to the car.

Hermione kissed Hugo, who scowled. Two of the trunks lifted off the cart, and fell to the pavement.

"Hugo, darling," she said patiently, "we'll have to go over those relaxation techniques again tonight."

"He needs a stern talking to, and maybe a Magic Dampening Potion," Ron grumbled.

"Ron!" Hermione said, shocked. "You know how those kinds of potions are especially bad for children. Just because he—"

"It's getting worse." Ron's voice rose in volume. "And now he's letting lose in front of Muggles."

Another trunk fell off the cart, right in front of a Muggle family.

"Oops!" Jamie said directly to the Muggles, picking up the trunk. "Sorry about that. These trunks are really slippery." Even though the trunk was light as a feather, Jamie made a show of struggling with it.

"Hey!" Harry interjected. "We can discuss this at another time. Let's go. Jamie, you and Al push that cart and get going. Lily, stay here with me. Hugo, come on." He gave Ron a pointed look. "Home. Now."

Hermione and Ron walked stiffly beside each other, Rose holding her mother's hand. They reached the cars parked near the station, and Ron and Harry easily shoved all four trunks into the magically expanded rear of the mini-van.

"I'll be home soon," Hermione said, giving Rose and Hugo kisses. "Drive carefully."

"I always do," Ron muttered. "All right, everyone in." He got into the driver's side and slammed the door shut.

Hermione took the snub with a shrug, and waved to Harry over the car. "See you later," she called, and walked in the direction of an Apparation point.

Harry sighed and got into the car. _Maybe it is best she's going away._

*~*

Everyone was cheered by a raucous visit to McDonald's, but the ride home was much calmer. Hugo remained silent, listening to the others chatting about coursework and teachers, Quidditch and broomsticks, friends and rivals. He picked up on familiar names: "Longbottom" had to be Daniel, who had been so nice to him at lower school, even though he was a couple of years older; "Goldstein guy" was Jacob Goldstein's older brother Benjamin, who was kind of a prat; "Lisa" may have been Lisa MacLean, who lived down the lane from Auntie Minerva, his godmother. _Everyone has friends, except me,_ he thought furiously. He had received two short letters from Rose during the four months she'd been gone; both never really said anything about her new life, other than it was cool and she had a lot of homework. He had nothing to contribute to the conversation, and blinked back hot tears.

"Hey."

Hugo looked up at the kind face of Uncle Harry, and gave him a tentative smile.

"Ignoring you, are they?"

Hugo shrugged.

"Oy!" Harry called. "Al, why don't you tell Hugo and me about the last Gyffindor Quidditch match which, I might add, you neglected to say anything about in your last Owl."

"Oh yeah!" Al said, quickly turning around to face Hugo and his father. "It was amazing. Hugo, you remember how high up the stands for the teachers and parents go? Well, one of the Hufflepuff Beaters, a girl called Pucey, hit a Bludger so hard it went through the bleachers."

"Really?" Hugo's eyes grew wide.

"Yeah, and they had to stop the game to—"

Harry turned straight around again, and smiled.

*~*

"Well, it went better than I hoped," Ron said later that night  
.  
"Ron, it was a bloody disaster," Harry replied, sitting up and fluffing his pillow a tad violently, then flumping back down. "Not one word. From any of them. I at least expected Jamie to say something. But, nothing!" He was silent for a handful of heartbeats. "God, I expected something like, 'When you say you're _with_ Uncle Ron? What does that mean?' Or 'Eww, that's so gross!' I can deal with that."

"Maybe they're open-minded," Ron said rationally, rolling onto his side to face Harry. "Kids these days are more accepting of that sort of stuff. It isn't a big deal. Ever since the bagpiper for the Weird Sisters came out and married his partner during a show, it's been a lot more open. When Aidan Lynch came out ten years ago, it opened a floodgate. I mean, how can you ignore the fact that the most famous Quidditch star in a century is married to another man? People just aren't that fussed anymore, especially since all that pure-blood stuff isn't important," Ron reasoned.

"Yeah, but these are _my_ kids. You'd think they'd have an opinion. I thought I raised them to question things, not be afraid to express themselves."

"Maybe they just aren't fussed, Harry. What you saw as indifference, I saw as acceptance and no big deal." Ron rolled over and covered him with his body, his cock hot and insistently poking Harry's thigh. "'Sides, maybe Ginny told them."

Harry went very still. "But—she promised she wouldn't."

"Ginny's known about us even before we knew about us." Ron kissed him in that clumsy, endearing Ron-way, all tongue and wet, open mouth. "Bloody women. Know too fucking much about us men." He kissed Harry again, this time with much more tongue. He shifted, insinuating his cock between Harry's legs. "You worry too much," he whispered. Another hot, pushy kiss. "Don't worry."

Harry gave in to Ron's ministration. All thought of disappointment and silent children disappeared as Ron's fingers tweaked his sensitive left nipple. He hissed, and drew his legs up in encouragement. Any frustration with too-smart women evaporated as Ron's cock nudged at his entrance. Everything negative and heartbreaking transformed into light as Ron filled him, as Ron's passion infected him, as Ron's cry of ecstasy, mingled with his, and all was well.

*~*

"They're gone!" Harry exclaimed, as he entered the bedroom the next morning. "They're all gone!"

"Wha'do'you'mean?" Ron asked sleepily.

"The kids. Jamie, Al and Lily—they're gone!"

Ron sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Harry, they probably just Floo'ed to Gin's. Give her a call."

"Right. Ginny."

Harry raced down the stairs, and nearly ran Hugo over. The boy was carrying a bowl of cereal to the table.

"Have you seen your cousins?" Harry asked him hastily.

Hugo shook his head.

Harry was curious about why his nephew was eating breakfast at his house when he knew full well Hermione had most likely fixed the boy a nutritious one at his house. But he was more anxious about why his own children were no longer in residence.

He threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. "Ginny and Oliver's house!" He stuck his head into the green flames. "Ginny!? GIN??"

"Don't shout, Harry," Ginny said irritably. She was sitting on the sofa near the fireplace holding a cup, her legs tucked up under her. "What on earth—oh, the kids are here."

"Figured that. Can I come through?"

"Um…no, not right now. Oliver is talking to them about your little announcement last night."

"Oliver? What the bloody hell can Oliver Wood tell them that I can't? For fuck's sake, Gin, I'm their father. This is my bloody life they're talking to him about. Look, just let me through…"

"No. Dammit, Harry. You know, sometimes kids just want a different perspective on things, and Oliver has been a good friend to them. I thought you liked him."

Harry stopped short. "Well, I do. But Ginny—"

"Look, they aren't mad. They're just…I don't know. A bit confused is probably the best way to describe it. They came and asked me about you and Ron, because I'm still their mother and Ron's sister. And I was honest. I told them you've always had this extraordinary connection, that I've always had this thought in the back of my mind that there was something more to your friendship, and that I think you two have been in love with each other for years without ever acknowledging it or even realizing it. But I was very clear that you never fooled around behind my back. That Ron was not the cause of our divorce, though it may have contributed to it in an unconscious way—"

"What?"

"--and that your changed relationship is very recent." She paused, taking a long sip of her tea. "I think they're a little confused at the change in 'teams', as it were. How can you have been married to me and now be with Ron romantically? You have to admit, Harry, it is a bit of a strange situation for an 11-year-old to take in."

Harry was thinking fast. What she was saying had merit. "And," Ginny interjected, "while Ollie is a sports psychologist, he is a psychologist. A damn good one. They've come to him several times with questions about life things, and he's been very patient and understanding with them."

"Yeah, Oliver's a first-rate bloke," Harry admitted. "He also had the good sense to marry you."

Ginny flapped a hand at him. "Oh, pish. Listen to you." She got up and came to kneel beside the fireplace. "Harry, they're fine. I really don't think they're upset or warped or anything. I think they were just taken by surprise to learn their father and their uncle are 'doing it'. I mean, you have to admit, that's pretty unique." She gave him a wide smile.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, well, I was bit worried when they said absolutely nothing last night. Not a question, not a comment, not a "OMG!WTF!, or whatever kids say today. Just silence, so yeah, I was worried."

"Harry, let me tell you the truth about our children. One, they're smart, and they got that from me; two, they have big hearts, and I'll give you that one." She held up three fingers. "Three, they're thoughtful, and sometimes they think things through before they say something. I don't know where in hell _that_ trait came from. Let's say your mother, because thinking before talking certainly isn't a Weasley family thing, and you can't be accused of being overly cautious when it comes to shooting off your mouth."

"Got me there." Harry was grinning and beginning to feel less panicky.

"Don't interrupt," Ginny said in mock mother-tone. "Now, fourth, our children are open-minded. I happen to know that one of Jamie's house mates has come out to him this semester, and Jamie has been defending him from the prats who have been hassling him."

"He told you that?" Harry was a little hurt he didn't know about this.

"Well, no. I was at Hogwarts covering the match, and I witnessed the fight," Ginny said. "Since I was there, he didn't get detention but technically, he did throw the first punch. And I didn't tell you because I thought it was his place to tell you about it. He might still, once he gets his head around you and Ron." Ginny heaved a sigh. "Oh, bugger, budge over. I'm coming through."

Harry stood up and helped Ginny through the fireplace. Once there, she threw her arms around him. "Oh, Harry. It's going to be all right, just you see. Give them some space, okay?"

Harry held onto her like a life-line. In the years since their divorce and Ginny's remarriage to Oliver, they'd become friends again, if anything to present a united front to their sometimes bloody stubborn teenaged boys. "I know," he sighed into her hair. "I just want things to be all right right now. I just don't want them to be mad or embarrassed or anything.

"Well, they're embarrassed just by the mere fact you're their father and you're old. Get over it," Ginny said with a laugh. "Have you noticed that Al won't hug you in public?"

"Yeah, that happened yesterday," Harry replied. "When did he become such a teenager?"

"Oh, about two years ago. I went through the same phase with my parents, and god, Ron still turns red when Mum kisses him good-bye."

"Hey! What's this?"

Ginny and Harry broke apart to look at Ron, who was staring back at them, tea towel over one shoulder. "You're not getting back together are you?"

Ginny tossed her head. "Sometimes I wonder if you have a brain at all, Ronald Weasley."

"You were right," Harry said, walking over to him. "They're over there talking to Oliver."

"Oh, that's just brilliant. Now Ollie can shrink their heads round and they'll come back more confused than ever," Ron huffed.

"Oy! That's my husband you're insulting!" Ginny said.

"Okay, before this degenerates into something really tragic, I think I need to intervene," Harry said, laughing. He put his arms around Ron.

"Ew! That's way too much P.D.A., guys," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.

"Get over it, Gin. It's love," Harry said audaciously.

 _CRRRAAACK!_ The mirror on the wall behind them shattered. Hugo was standing in the doorway of the lounge.

"HUGO!" Ron bellowed. "What that bloody—"

"Whoa! Whoa, Ron," Harry said, grabbing Ron. "Let me take care of it, okay? Gin, can you. . ."

"Not a problem," she said, taking Ron by the arm and setting him on the sofa.

Harry went in search of Hugo, who had run off when Ron yelled at him. He ran lightly up the steps and paused at the top, concentrating on listening for any heavy breathing.

At the room at the far end, Al's room, Harry thought he heard a thump. _Ah, retreating to the boy cave,_ he thought.

Sure enough, Hugo had settled into the space underneath Al's bed loft. He and Al had had a lot of fun building the loft when he was old enough to have his own room. The space underneath had been many things: a cave, junk storage, a fort. But after Al began reading, it turned into a reading nook: a low, comfortable chair with a reading lamp and a small case of books now occupied it, but he never got rid of the curtains that surrounded it. A boy needed to feel safe and warm sometimes.

"Hugo? Can I talk to you?"

Harry's query was greeted with silence and a sniffle. "Hugo?"

"D-don't come in, U-uncle Harry."

"But why?" Harry stepped closer, then sat down and leaned against the post. "All I want to do is talk."

"I m-might blow you up."

Harry bit back a laugh. "I'm pretty sure if you wanted to blow me up you would've done so already. But, you know, I'm good at defensive magic, so I think I'm safe."

There was another sniffle and a hiccup. Harry decided he'd simply take the initiative and beg for forgiveness later. He lifted the bottom of the curtain and looked in. The top of Hugo's head poked up from behind Al's reading chair, in the tiny space where Al stashed his Legos, the final toy that connected Harry's youngest son to childhood.

Harry took a seat in the chair, and crossed his legs. Hugo didn't acknowledge him nor did he stop playing with the Legos. Harry wasn't sure what to do next, so he just started talking.

"You know I met your dad when I was eleven, right?" Harry began. "He was the first real friend I ever had. It's true. No one wanted to be around me when I was little 'cause my cousin was such a git. And you've heard how we became friends with your mum when we all took on a mountain troll in the girls' bathroom at Hallowe'en? Yeah, that was something. I mean, how can you not be friends with someone who goes into the girls' bathroom with you when you're eleven? In some ways, that was scarier than fighting the troll."

Hugo hiccupped quietly, something between a sniffle and a giggle.

"And your dad's been with me throughout everything else important in my life: fighting with Slytherins and looking for the Horcruxes and defeating Voldemort. Then when I went through Auror training: I thought fighting Voldemort and Death Eaters was tough. Huh, there is nothing worse than going through three years of Auror training, let me tell you. It was bad. It was so bad some days I wanted to quit. But your dad was right there with me the entire time, encouraging me, supporting me. And I did the same for him when he did his training. I supported him when he was an Auror and when he decided to leave to help your uncle run the joke shops.

"Did you know that we were best men at each other's weddings? Your mum may have told you about that day, but your dad, you know, he loves your mum very much, even now, but he was really nervous that day. I'd already married your Aunt Ginny, so I'd been through it. And then when Jamie was born, your dad was right there, outside the room where Aunt Ginny was having him. He was the first person who saw Jamie, besides me, of course. He looked at me and said, 'Blimey, Harry, you're a dad.' And then I was there for him when Rose was born, and then when you were born. Did you know you gave your mum and dad a right good scare? Yeah, you didn't want to come out exactly the way the Healer wanted you to, and for a few minutes, they weren't sure what was happening."

Harry noticed that Hugo had gone very still, listening to him.

"And your dad came out of the room, and he came up to me and hugged me very, very hard. He said, 'They can't find a heartbeat. I think my son is going to die.' And he started to cry. That's like only the second time I'd ever seen your dad cry. The first time, well, I'll let him tell you about that, but yeah, all he could do was hang on and cry thinking you weren't going to make it.

"And then the Healer came out and there was this baby crying. And you were out, and you were right as rain, and the Healer was smiling. So he pulled me and Aunt Ginny into the room where your mum was, and she was so tired, but so beautiful and relieved. And your dad, well, he was just so happy you and your mum were okay that he started crying again. I did too, come to think of it.

"Anyway, your dad and mum were so relieved that you were all right. You were their scary baby, and he called you that for a while after you were born. He was always holding you, and singing to you, like he was trying to sing the scary memories he had of you away."

"Well of course I was scaring them away," Ron said, his head visible from under the curtain. "Nothing was going to hurt my boy."

Hugo's face lit up when Ron entered the reading loft. He crawled under the curtain and sat beside Harry's feet. Hugo clambered over Harry and the chair, and plopped into Ron's lap.

"Hey, little man."

Hugo laid his head on Ron's shoulder. "I didn't know about that."

"There was no reason to tell you about that right now. But I'm glad Uncle Harry did." Ron settled in closer to Harry's legs. "I love you more than anything else. Well, maybe not more than your sister; I love you both equally. And I love your cousins, and Granddad and Grandma, and everyone in the family—but that's not what I want to talk about.

"Hu, I love you very much. And I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but somehow I get the idea that you think I don't love you anymore. I want you to know that just because me and your mum are divorced and we sometimes don't get along too good, it doesn't mean my love for you has changed. It hasn't and it never will. Well, maybe if you marry a Slytherin—Ow!" Ron grinned as Harry kicked him. "Well, okay, that won't make a difference either. But for you and me, nothing has changed.

"But something has changed for me. Uncle Harry has told you about how we've been best mates for a really long time. And we've always lived in each other's pockets. Well, a while back, we realized that maybe we love each other better than just best mates. A lot more. I think it's always been there, how much I love him, but I just couldn't or didn't want to say I loved him that much. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Hugo sat still for a moment, but then he nodded. "You and Uncle Harry love each other and now you don't love Mum?"

"Well, no. I mean, I'll always love your mum. She's your mum and my best friend, just like Uncle Harry. And we didn't get a divorce because I didn't love her. We divorced because some people, even though they love each other, they just don't like being with each other—it's kinda weird. But we decided we just didn't want to live with each other any more. And then I realized that maybe I was ready to love Uncle Harry. So Uncle Harry and I talked some more, and after your mum and I got divorced, I moved in here with him to see if this was something we wanted."

"And is it?" Hugo asked. "Is Uncle Harry who you're supposed to be with?"

Harry's hand came to rest on Ron's shoulder, and Ron took it. "Yeah, he is. He's the person I want to live with, for the rest of our lives if that's what he wants."

Harry gave his hand a hard squeeze. "Yes, he does."

Hugo looked up at Harry, and then at Ron. "And you're happy?"

Ron didn't break eye contact with his son. "Yes, Hugo. Uncle Harry makes me very happy."

"Oh. I just thought you were living here because you were mad at me."

"Oh, Hugo," Ron said, hugging him tightly. "I love you and I like you. Very much. I'm not mad at you at all."

"You know, Hu," Harry said, slipping off the chair to sit across from Ron and Hugo so he could place his hands on Ron's and Hugo's knees, "there are different kinds of love. There's the love we have for our world, and for favorite books or toys and for our friends. There's the love that people have for each other, like when two people fall in love and want to live together, like your dad and me. It goes deeper than just being best mates. We want to share everything with each other. That's the kind of love we have.

"But then there's the love we have for you kids. That kind of love never, ever goes away. Yeah, we may get mad at you; you've gotten mad at us, too. But stop loving you or Rose or Jamie or Al or Lily? Never, ever."

"So I'm afraid you're stuck with your mum and Uncle Harry and me forever," Ron said. "Is that okay?"

Hugo nodded. "You know, I wish you'd just told me you were in love with Uncle Harry a long time ago. It would've made things so much easier."

Ron and Harry looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "Well, son, funny you should mention that. . ."

*~*

"Some day, huh?" Harry said, handing Ron a tumbler of Old Ogden's Firewhisky, and joined him on the floor, back against the sofa. The fairy lights glowed softly on the Christmas tree in front of them.

"No matter how old they get, they're still up at the arse-crack of dawn to open presents," Ron muttered. "Christ, I'm tired."

"That's the goose talking. And the four helpings of stuffing. And two glasses of wine. Or was it three?" Harry took a sip of the whisky in gratitude. "And getting up at the arse-crack of dawn."

"I think we ought to ban Christmas before about ten o'clock in the morning."

"Cheers, but that'll never fly."

"Yeah, probably." Ron heaved a great sigh. "Thanks for the stuff you gave me."

"You're welcome, and thank you for everything you got me." Harry got up on his knees and crawled over to the tree. "Oh! But what's this? It's another gift with your name on it."

Ron set his drink down beside him as Harry came towards him with a small gift wrapped in red paper. "How'd we miss this one?"

Harry gave him an innocent look. "It was back behind the tree and under the skirt, easy to overlook I'm sure."

Ron grinned. "Yeah, right, you wanker. So's this for me?"

"Uh-huh."

Ron ripped open the paper and unfurled the small ball of fabric in his hand. "What the bloody fuck is this? Harry, you bought me…underwear?"

Harry giggled. "Kind of. It's a very special kind of underwear." He leant over and whispered," You know how much your glorious balls turn me on? Seeing you in this will make my head explode."

Ron stared at Harry, then the ball fabric in his hand. He leapt up and raced for the stairs, pounding up three steps at a time.

Harry grinned as he rose and picked up Ron's tumbler, knocking back the rest of the whisky. He heard a thump and a muffled oath as he set the glasses in the sink and waved his wand to set a final security charm.  
  
Climbing the steps slowly, he thought about the day—a comfortable, fun day with their children, all of whom had taken their change in status from best mates to partners with a great deal of grace and acceptance. Ron's parents, as always, made him feel loved, even though he'd switched from loving their only daughter and to loving their youngest son. All the Weasley family took their announcement from shock to delight within a span of mere seconds. Ginny and Oliver had always given them support and extraordinary kindness. And as they tucked tired children into their beds tonight, each one told Harry and Ron they were happy because he and Ron were happy. "Isn't that what's life supposed to be like?" Lily asked.

 _Pray God that it is_ , Harry breathed.

Best of all, the magical explosions caused by Hugo stopped. He had smiled all day, happy to be reunited with his sister and cousins. All of them spent the day excitedly playing a new, more wicked version of Exploding Snap and taking turns on Al's new broomstick.

He entered their bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and casting locking and silencing charms. He tripped over Ron's shoes and grinned at the trail of clothing that led to the en suite bath. He found Ron bent over in front of the long mirror on the opposite wall.

Ron heard him, and unfolded his lanky frame to its full height. He was wearing the black underwear. Harry watched as Ron ran his hand over his flat, freckled abdomen.

 

"Blimey," Harry breathed. "You are so fucking _hot_."

Ron spread his legs apart. His large sac, covered in fuzzy red hair, hung low out of a slit in the pants. Harry licked his lips, then moaned as Ron touched it.

"Fucking hell, that's really hot in a weird way," Ron said, watching himself in the mirror.

"You have a hole in your underwear," the mirror said.

"Go away," Ron told it sternly.

The mirror made a noise that sounded very much like a raspberry, but fell silent.

Harry walked up beside him and ran his hand down Ron's arm whilst looking at him in the mirror. "You have the sexiest body. I love everything about it. God, your cock"—he presses the heel of his hand along the bulge—"but your balls are fucking fantastic. When I saw these, I had to have them for you."

Ron took another step sideways, his sac now swinging free. Harry moaned. Not wanting to wait another minute, he shucked out of his shoes, jeans, sweatshirt and boxers faster than a rampaging hippogryff. Ron saw that Harry's cock head was purple and glistening. He fondled the two large testicles, causing Harry to gasp. "Fuck me, but this is fucking brilliant," Harry said.

"And fuck you I will," Ron growled. He turned and crushed his lips to Harry's willing ones.

Harry's knees buckled just a bit when Ron guided his hand to touch his swaying sac. Harry gave it a gentle squeeze, loving the heavy feel of them. Suddenly, he broke the kiss and dropped to his knees. He licked the sac, then sucked as much of it into his mouth as he could, rolling it around with his tongue.

Now it was Ron's knees that gave way as Harry took his impossibly hard cock in hand. "Fuuuuuuck," Ron wheezed, his legs trembling.

Harry released one Ron's balls and then took the other one fully in, giving it the same hot, wet attention; released it he blew on it, making it contract.

"Ahhh, fuck," Ron cried out, "stop it."

Harry suspected that might have been a bit too cold. He looked up at Ron, who at that second looked down at him. Harry smiled and, opening his mouth wide again, taking in the sac again.

"Merlin on a fucking bicycle—god damn—that's—that's. . ."

Harry Banished the underpants, releasing Ron's cock, which had grown purple and engorged with need. As Ron continued to babble nonsense, the sac slid, glossy out of Harry's mouth. Harry swiftly swallowed Ron's length in exchange, sucking to the root.

"Fuck, gonna come!" Ron strangled out. But Harry continued to suck him hard, cheeks hollowing, and his hand squeezing Ron's balls, until with a hoarse cry, Ron came with a rush.

Harry swallowed and tenderly licked Ron's softening cock until Ron collapsed on the bed behind him. "Oh, god, that was brilliant," he moaned.

Harry said nothing as he crawled up onto the bed with him, nibbling and kissing his way up Ron's body, worshipping his nipples with avid attention. Ron squirmed under the stimulation to his most sensitive part. "Fuck, Harry. You're gonna kill me," he moaned.

"No, I'm gonna love you and fuck you until you see stars," Harry said, the words low and meaningful. "Gonna love you now."

Harry raised his hand and Summoned the lube from the bedside table. He carefully prepared Ron's entrance, inserting one finger, then two, and pulling gently. Ron moaned again. "Why don't I get to bottom more? Merlin, that's magnificent."

Harry chuckled. "We can arrange that."

"C'mon! I'm ready."

Harry slathered more lube on his cock, then held it closely to Ron's body. "Ready?"

"Christ, get on with it! I'm no virgin!"

Harry pushed forward, going lightheaded at the tight rush of heat. "God, that's—amazing." He slowly pushed in. "Oh, yessss," he hissed at the pleasure.

"Stop hissing. More fucking." Ron flexed his muscles around Harry's cock.

"You keep that up and I'll come in a heartbeat," Harry replied, "so stop it so I can fuck you properly."

Harry quickly set up a fast rhythm, angling up to hit Ron's prostate at unexpected intervals; he loved how Ron moaned and cursed when he did so. Finally, when Ron's cock was fully stiff again, Harry hit it with every pass.

"Oh, god, oh, god, godgodgod," Ron gibbered. "Fuckfuckfuck."

Harry would've giggled had he not been so intent toward making his mate—his lover, his beloved—lose all sense and control. Ron grabbed his cock and within seconds, came again with force. "Oh yessss!" he cried.

Harry felt that stabbing hot-cold rush of impending orgasm, but seeing the look of utter pleasure on Ron's face pushed him over the edge into his own bliss. He rode the wave of bright ecstasy with Ron until both were completely spent.

He sagged over Ron's pliant body, breathing hard. "That was—brilliant," he managed to say.

"Mmm…I'll say. Twice for me," Ron slurred. "C'mere and snuggle."

After a moment, Harry slid sideways into Ron's waiting arms, reveling in his hot embrace. They lay entwined until sleep began to overtake them. Harry shook himself out of slumber and rose to amble to the loo. Ron felt asleep straightaway, snoring softly.

Harry pulled on a bath robe and scuffed into slippers. He left the warm bedroom, and walked quietly up and down the hall making a final check on the five children.

He entered Al's room, where Hugo was ensconced in a camp bed under the loft bed. Harry tucked the blanket in a little tighter around his chin. He was surprised when the boy shifted and opened his eyes.

"Hey. Just making sure you're covered up. It's going to be a cold night," Harry told him.

"I know." Then, he yawned. "I love you, Uncle Harry."

Harry was a little startled. He'd been told that by his own children, many times, though not so much now that they were teenagers. But never had he heard it from one of Ron's kids, though he knew they loved him as well.

"I love you too, Hu."

"I'm glad you make my dad happy. You make me happy too." He yawned again, and rolled over.

Harry smoothed the covers over, unable to speak for the lump in his throat. _You have no idea how happy you all make me._ And as he prepared to return to his room and his lover, he watched his nephew sleeping serenely, and knew Hugo was going to be just fine from now on. Because boys had a way of doing that.

 

*~*


End file.
